Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk, the characters, or any of the dialogue copied verbatim from the show – these things all belong to Showtime, CowLip, etc.

A/N: This one takes place during the end of episode 206, starting right after the conversation Deb has with Brian about Justin. I know I skipped 205, but as much as I enjoyed that episode, it didn't really seem to have any moments that needed filling in, and since I'd already talked about Justin's school and dealing with drawing with his "gimp hand," I didn't feel like there was any more I could say about those themes without being too repetitive. The prompt for this chapter was #6, Seize the day. I originally intended it just to be the first part, but as I was writing, I felt the need to show the later scene as well. I've tried to be as true to canon as possible, so let me know how well you think I did! Thanks so much to those who reviewed, it means more to me than you know!

The title comes from the Savage Garden song, which I think fits the plot and mood well. Listen while you read and see if you agree.

The walk from Woody's to Babylon could take less than a minute if someone was in a hurry. If, on the other hand, someone couldn't quite figure out how to casually demonstrate his affection to a certain other person without either pissing off said other person or coming right out and saying how he felt, the walk could take ages. There were all kinds of alleyways in which to wander about, dark corners in which to brood, and intersections at which to pause – and on one particular night, Brian Kinney discovered one of these excuses at least once every three seconds.

Though he had maintained a stoic face throughout it, his conversation with Debbie had unnerved him more than he wanted to admit, even to himself; but then, conversations with his surrogate mother tended to do that. He knew, had always known, that she saw through his bullshit more so even than Mikey did, but he wasn't prepared for her to say that he should tell Justin he loved him. He had expected her to yell at him, but not to become all sentimental and tell him how to fix it, whatever exactly it was that he had broken.

"Brian Kinney doesn't do 'I love you,'" he muttered to himself in alleyway stop number one of the night. He sighed deeply, trying to figure out how he had gotten to the point where he was even considering the fact that he might be in love with someone, let alone telling Justin how he felt.

"Oh, I think it's adorable that he asked you! Despite the somewhat questionable age difference between you and the fact that emotionally he's twelve years your senior…"

"…and I definitely don't want to grow old with Melanie – or anyone else."

"What do you want?"

"This."

"It's very beautiful."

It was the scarf, he decided. It had all started when he had bought that damn scarf while shopping with Lindsay. The scarf that, after it failed to be used for scarfing, was next put to use as part of a very sophisticated prom night ensemble. But of course, Brian couldn't put all of the blame on the scarf, no matter how much he used it to hold onto the pain and suffering of that night, to keep Justin and any feelings related to him locked up while simultaneously reminding him of his guilt about the bashing.

"I thought you said you wouldn't be caught dead in a room full of eighteen year olds."

"I thought I'd recapture my lost youth."

He shook his head hard as if to clear his mind of all thought and emotion, then walked across the alley to the next street corner. Unfortunately, his mind trick hadn't worked, and he could still remember how excited he had felt as he looked at the clock after Mikey had left, realized there were probably still two or more hours left in Justin's prom, and quickly took a shower, got dressed, and drove to the hotel where the dance was being held. What the hell, he had thought, on a day that he had always thought would be the end of his life, he might as well give someone else a little happiness. What he hadn't counted on, however, until the music started playing and he began to dance with Justin, was how happy it would make him, too.

"Did you see their faces?"

"Yeah, we gave them a prom they'll never forget."

"Me neither. It was the best night of my life."

"Even if it was ridiculously romantic."

He had said the words mockingly, because that's what he did with anything that involved romance, love, or relationships, but when he had looked into Justin's eyes he knew that he wasn't fooling anyone. That realization had given him pause before he leaned in to give Justin a soft kiss tonight. He had assumed that after Justin went back in and finished dancing to current teen-friendly music with Daphne for the last hour of their prom, he would come over to the loft and they'd fuck each other's brains out until the sun came up, or they died of exhaustion, whichever came first.

Shit, Brian thought to himself as he leaned up against the wall of a currently unopened store less than a block from Babylon, hoping he was hidden in the shadows. Even after an out-of-character romantic formal dance, all he had wanted to do was spend the rest of the night alone with Justin. Of course, he would never know what that night would have been like, but he had never imagined it as anything deeper than hot, sweaty fucking. Making love, though he would never admit it to Justin or anyone else, hadn't crossed his mind until several months later.

"I want you inside me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Just take it easy."

"Like the first time?"

As much as he tried to push his feelings aside, Lindsay and Debbie were right – he did love Justin, in whatever way it was possible for him to do. He would tell anyone that his feelings didn't matter, whether those feelings were love, affection, sorrow, or guilt. The only thing that mattered was that Justin got better, and if that meant that the king of "getting out with the maximum of pleasure and the minimum of bullshit" had to have sex slowly and gently, had to hold his partner's hand and kiss him deeply, had to lay unmoving with his body completely surrounding Justin's, then so be it. The problem, unfortunately, was that, just as he had told Lindsay about his typical behavioral patterns, these romantic behaviors seemed to be causing romantic feelings that Brian was powerless to stop.

And in that moment, Brian suddenly knew what he was going to tell Justin. He just hoped that he would understand without an explanation that Brian knew he would be unable to give. As soon as he entered Babylon, he climbed the stairs to give him a better vantage point for locating Justin. He then casually walked down and over to where Justin was dancing.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Hey, fuck off."

"What do you want?" Justin asked indignantly, which Brian supposed he had every right to do.

"You were right. The reason I took you in was because you took a bat to the head, but it's not the reason I want you to stay. But don't get the idea that we're some married couple, because we're not. We're not like fucking straight people. We're not like your parents, and we're not a pair of dykes marching down the aisle in matching Vera Wangs. We're queers, and if we're together, it's because we want to be, not because there's locks on our doors. So if I'm out late, just assume it's because I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing – I'm fucking. And when I come home, I'll also be doing exactly what I want to do – coming home to you." Although his voice sounded calm, inside Brian was still slightly terrified to find out what Justin was going to say in response – and to figure out what he was going to do if he didn't say something good.

"Okay, I want some things too. You can fuck whoever you want, as long as it's not twice. Same for me. And no names or numbers exchanged. And no matter where you are, no matter what you're doing, you always come home…by 2."

"4," Brian countered, all the while knowing that so far, Justin's reaction had been better than it could have been and that if he pushed on this one, Brian would give in.

"3. One more thing: You don't kiss anyone else on the mouth but me."

It might not have been his typical m.o. for tricks, but it was certainly a restriction he could live with. In reply, he leaned in and kissed Justin deeply on the mouth. Yeah, this was definitely something he could live with.

Back at the loft a couple of hours later, Justin found himself flat on his back on the bed. Or rather, he found himself with his back arched up and his head thrown back, because that tended to be his involuntary reaction to getting his dick sucked, especially by Brian Kinney. As he felt Brian's tongue lick up the underside of his cock and then take it into his mouth inch by inch one last time, all rational thought seemed to disappear for a moment. When Brian finally did that thing with his tongue that he knew drove Justin crazy – one of the many benefits of having sex with someone more than once that they both loved but only Justin would ever say out loud – he finally came as they both collapsed back onto the bed and into each other. As they lay there in their post-orgasmic high, Justin's head on Brian's chest and Brian's arm around Justin's shoulders, Justin felt like Brian had opened up enough tonight that he dared to ask the question that had been rolling around in his head for the past few days.

"So, the other night, when you said my bashing hurt you too…do you wanna talk about it?" Justin held his breath, hoping he hadn't pushed too far.

"No," Brian said simply.

"Okay," Justin replied.

"Okay?" Brian asked incredulously. "That's it? You're just going to drop it?"

"I don't want to push you on this. If you want to talk about it, that's fine, but if not, that's fine too. I just wanted to let you know that you could."

"Oh." After a few minutes of silence, Brian continued. "I'd never actually seen anyone get bashed before. Not…not like that. I've seen people get mocked, made fun of, had practical jokes played on them, even punched or slapped, but not… I really think that Chris Hobbes wanted to kill you. I thought you were going to die. And there was nothing I could do about it."

"You really can't stand not being in control, can you?"

"It's not just that, it's…dammit!" Brian shouted, suddenly removing his arm from underneath Justin and sitting straight up in bed, his hands balled into fists by his hips.

"Ssh, it's okay," Justin replied quickly, sitting up behind him and placing his hands on his well-defined shoulder blades and beginning to massage his back. "I know what you mean."

And, Justin thought as they both sat there in silence for a few minutes, he did know what Brian meant – somehow, he always did, no matter how few words were actually spoken between the two of them. He knew that some of those things had happened Brian, some to Michael, and maybe some to other people that he didn't know. He knew that after a childhood he barely survived, being in control was the only way Brian knew how to exist, and it made him feel proud but also scared that he could break through that need, and bad that his bashing had made him regret giving it up. He also knew that there was more to how hurt he was than that, but he was okay with Brian not telling him everything right then. He had given him enough for one night.

And then, Brian turned around and kissed him, and as usual, it said more than a whole conversation's worth of words ever could.